Luke is making clicking noises with his tongue and humming in order to avoid hearing me.
Emma practically kicks her feet in the air as she’s laughing so hard. “I know you’re lying, and you’re still freaking me out. Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“Strangers love to talk about sex with their bartenders. I should add that to my LinkedIn page. Excellent advice giver to those interested in trying anal.”
“People use molasses for anal?” she asks in disbelief.
“You don’t want to know.” I get up from the bed and walk over to Luke. Pulling his hands away from his ears, I say, “I was just kidding.”
Luke’s face is beet red. He drops his hands to his sides.
The room is eerily quiet, so I lean into Luke’s ear and say loudly, “Did I ever tell you about that time Emma and Parker had sex in the kitty city?”
Luke’s hands fly back up to his ears as he marches out of my room and down the hall. “I’m burning my ears in acid!”
Emma stands from the bed, her hands on her hips. “I never had sex in the kitty city.”
With a shrug, I reply, “I know.”
She wipes under her eyes and smiles.
Emma is really spectacular. The reason she never had sex in the kitty city isn’t just because it would be disgusting. It’s also because her boyfriend is the dullest guy on the planet. She confessed once that he only likes to do it missionary and never on the day of a performance. That means, they have sex maybe once a week if their schedules align. It’s really quite pathetic. My beautiful, talented, brilliant sister should be screaming with orgasms every night. Not being boinked on the weekly by the douche with a flute.
Good news is, our shenanigans have deflected from our conversation about Adam. I can’t deal with this seriousness this early in the morning.
Speaking of…
“Why are you up so early?” I ask.
It’s no secret that Emma loves to sleep in.
“Heading back to Pittsburgh. Parker has a thing.”
I roll my eyes.
“Be nice,” she adds. “He’s coming for Labor Day weekend.”
Her mouth widens, and she sways from side to side, like a toddler who stole from the cookie jar.
I nudge my head and raise my brows. “What?”
“Parker is going to propose.”
My insides are rolling over with shock, but I plaster a big, fat smile on my face. “How can you be so sure?”
“It’s just the way he’s been talking about buying a place together and how many bedrooms we’ll need. He even asked if I was allergic to dogs. Those are the kinds of things couples talk about when they’re getting ready to start a life together.” She squeals lightly, “I think he’s the one.”
I grind my teeth as I raise my arms in the air. “That’s so exciting!” My voice is a little higher than usual.
Giving Emma the best hug I’ve got in my body, I show her the love she deserves from her sister. I might despise my soon-to-be brother-in-law, but I love my sister. Her happiness means more to me than anything in the world.
Our embrace is disrupted by my mom’s voice. “Leah, are you coming down, honey? Adam’s here.”
“She and Emma are too busy talking about sex!” Luke shouts from the hallway.
I close my eyes in slight horror.
“Coming,” I call down to my mom.
Luke groans in his room. The sound of his door slamming shut makes me jump.
“I’m gonna go make sure you didn’t scar him for life.” Emma walks to the door. Before she leaves, she turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Sometimes, I feel like my life is too perfect. Great guy, perfect job, amazing family. It’s like I’m waiting for it to implode.”
My gorgeous professional musician sister has shown her first bit of insecurity. It only took twenty-four years.
“No matter what happens, you just have to keep on keepin’ on.”
A beautiful, full smile ignites her face as she says, “You know, you’ve never been one to fade into the background. It’d be a shame if you started now.”
She leaves my room, and before I can process her yogalike words of wisdom, I am being summoned by my mom again.
I check my hair—a super-cute French braid—and then skip down the stairs. I stop at the bottom landing. Adam is standing in the living room, holding David Wooderson. The calico is purring into Adam’s palm as he rubs the cat’s orange coat.
“Good talk?” he asks, his mouth tipped up on the side.
I thumb up the stairs. “You know, just your standard sex chat. You enjoy holding my mom’s pussy?”
Adam’s hand stops immediately. Mr. Wooderson casts an evil glare up at him.
My dad walks in with a tin and a thermos. “One for the road, and the taffy is for the crew.”
Letting Mr. Wooderson jump down, Adam takes the tin. “I love Leah’s taffy.”
Dad’s face lights up. “You gave him some of your taffy?”
“Letting him into my kitchen,” I say, grabbing the thermos.
Adam clears his throat. “That is not a euphemism, sir. I haven’t gone anywhere near her…kitchen.” His tone is of the utmost respect.
My dad and I stare back at Adam and blink at him.
“We’re gonna go now.” I take the tin of taffy out of his hand and lead him out the door. “Bye, Bob.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Paige,” Adam says.
I release his hand and skip down the stairs and into the pickup truck. Adam isn’t far behind me.
When he slides into the driver’s seat, he puts his cell in one of the cup holders. Then, he turns the ignition and says, “Why do you call your parents by their first names?”
Pulling the seat belt across my lap, I answer, “It started out as a joke and just stuck.”
We pull away from the curb and down the street.
He lets out a low grunt. “I’m surprised. Your parents always seem so proper. Calling them by their first names, mentioning sex…it’s different from how I expected your family to be.”
“You’re right, and you’re wrong. My parents are very like-minded in their morals. They would never be unfaithful, and they taught us all to be our best and work hard for what we wanted in this world. They are also honest people. They don’t hide behind the idea that their kids are perfect, and they know we’re going to make mistakes. Well, maybe not Emma.”
He grins at that statement. “She is a bit of a Goody Two-shoes.”
“Says the Boy Scout.” I lean in with my elbow on the console.
“Touché.” He smirks.
I kick off my shoes and curl my feet onto the seat. “We joke about things in our house. I think it’s their way of keeping a close ear on what we’re up to, and it’s probably why Luke, Emma, and I are so close for siblings. Even though Luke’s away at college most of the year, he tells my mom and Emma everything.”
“Not you?” He places his elbow next to mine.
“I get an earful, but Emma and Luke are extra close. He’s her baby. Seriously, when she was five, she told everyone he was her son. My parents thought it was adorable.”
He laughs. It’s a thick and rich sound. “What about you? Who do you call when you have a problem?”
“My dad. Bob’s my guy.”
His elbow is rubbing against mine, and it’s ridiculous how this teeny-tiny bit of contact is making me feel. We enter onto the highway, and I look down at my black nails. Yes, it’s a dark color for the summer, but I felt like putting on something dramatic this week.
My eyes roll toward him in interest. “I heard you took Jessica out.”
He just nods. I shouldn’t be surprised that I am getting zero intel out of him. It’s for the best.
A car swerves past us, cutting us off. Adam grips the steering wheel and quickly jerks it to the left to avoid getting hit. I place my feet on the ground and grip the door handle. His cell phone falls out of the cup holder and onto the floor by my sneakers.
When
the car is righted, he looks over to me. “You okay?”
I take a deep breath through my nose. “Yeah. I’m an accident pro by now.”
By the look on his face, he is not amused by my comment. My foot hits something on the floor, so I lean down to see it’s Adam’s phone. When I pick it up, the screen is lit, showcasing an audio file.
“You listen to audio books?” I am way too excited about this revelation.
He leans over and tries to grab the phone from my hand, but I back up into the door.
“Eyes on the road, buddy!”
Thumbing through the app, I click on a book, and a male narrator’s voice comes pouring through the phone’s speaker.
“Lately, I find myself thinking more and more about her but not only as a friend.”
His arm reaches out, but I pull the phone in.
“I notice little details about her that haven’t caught my attention in years but glare out at me now. Every time I look at her, it’s like I’m seeing someone new, not the girl I grew up with and have known for years.”
He snatches the phone out of my hand and turns it down.
I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle. “You listen to romance novels!”
If he could close his eyes in mortification, I’m sure he would.
Instead, he lifts his chin, and as someone who possesses one hundred percent confidence in himself, he says, “I spend a lot of time in my car. And not just romance. I listen to thrillers. James Patterson, John Connolly, Stephen King.”
I can’t help the smile that creeps across my face. “And I just happened to spy on the one day you’re enjoying a contemporary romance?” Curling my feet back up on the seat, I lean onto the console. “What’s it about?”
He rubs the side of his face and answers, “I haven’t gotten very far, but they’re childhood best friends, and they’re in love with each other.”
With the most nonchalant attitude I can muster, I reply, “Oh.”
The silence in the car is deafening. He’s clutching his phone in his hand like the world will explode if he lets it go.
Cautiously, I ask, “Can we listen to it? Together?”
His brows pinch in.
I lean further into his side. “You won’t let me listen to music, and I’ve never heard a book on tape. If it’s chick lit, then it’s perfect for a girl like me.”
I bat my eyelashes a bazillion times until he finally looks my way.
With an exasperated breath, he says, “Fine. But we’re not listening from the beginning.”
I sit back and cross my legs, Indian-style. “No problem. I’ll figure out what’s going on.”
He turns on his radio and hands me the phone to sync his Bluetooth.
The book resumes where it left off. “My heart beats erratically—slowing down, speeding up—and my palms start to sweat a little when I stare in her direction.”
I sit back in my seat and listen to the story. This is going to be good.
chapter FIFTEEN
It was a very bad idea. The book is called Gravity by some author named Lauren Runow, and I’m convinced she’s a sadist.
When we get to the house, I am so enthralled in the story that I don’t get up.
Adam reaches across the seat and opens the glove box. He pulls out one of those rectangular tissue packs and offers me one.
I sniffle and pull out one from the plastic. “How are you not sobbing right now?”
With a finger to my cheek, he wipes away a tear that is falling toward my chin. “I’ve seen a lot of ugly. Takes a lot to make me cry.”
“Good to know you’re not made of stone.”
He hands me another tissue. “I thought we’d already established that I was a romantic.”
I let out a huff. “That’s still to be seen. Come on, I need to hear what happens next.”
I grab his phone and get out of the car first and ask Toby to borrow his radio. Adam and I are painting the upstairs bedrooms today, so while he grabs the rollers, brushes, and paint, I get the radio synced and wait until Adam is here to turn the book back on to where we left off.
Listening to an audio book took me longer than I’d expected to get into it, but by chapter seven, I am immersed in the story. It also doesn’t hurt that the male narrator has a huskiness to his voice.
I’m on the floor, putting blue masking tape on the trim so that we won’t ruin the fresh white paint yesterday’s crew put on it.
“Never in my wildest imagination would I have believed that my dad getting me a hooker for my sixteenth birthday would bring us closer together.”
I mock laugh and say to myself, “Sounds like a great guy.”
I’m tearing a piece of tape with my teeth when the story turns darker.
“The first time he sent me on a drug run was the scariest day of my life.”
My eyes dart across the room to Adam, who is standing on a ladder.
As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks my way. “You all right over there?”
I clear my throat as I rapidly nod my head and go back to working.
“I grab the rolled up bill and lean down to snort my first line. The sting burns my eyes, and I can’t help but cough from the powder hitting the back of my throat, but I did it. My throat goes numb, and my body temperature rises.”
I look back at Adam and see he hasn’t moved. He’s listening, but his focus is on me. His thoughts are probably running just as wildly as mine.
“I don’t know whether to be disgusted with what my life has become or pity myself.”
Is this what it was like the first time Brad got high? Did he mean for it to become a habit? Was he alone with the wrong people, thinking they were right, when the best people were busying themselves on a basketball court, looking the other way?
He rests the can of paint in his hand on the ladder and gives me his full attention. “We can turn it off.”
It’s a sweet offer, but if he can deal with listening to a story about a guy getting high, then so can I.
“Nah. It’s just a story.” I tear a piece of tape not as neatly as I’d like. “I’m waiting to get to the sexy scenes. What kind of romance is this?”
He laughs a big, beautiful booming laugh. Turning his back to me, he resumes painting the walls.
We spend the morning listening and painting, working into the early afternoon. So far, the book has gone from sweet to sad to angsty. The two main characters have been dancing around their attraction to one another and are finally alone.
I’m using a roller to paint the walls. Adam already cut the corners with a brush.
I’m rolling my brush up the wall when the narrator says, “Before she can sit down, I grab her hand, pulling her toward me, slamming our bodies together. Without a second thought, I push my lips against hers.”
“Finally!” I practically shout at the speakers.
I can hear Adam’s chuckle from where he’s working behind me on the other side of the room.
I dip the roller in the paint and glide the creamy shade of sandstone on the wall.
“The second my lips touch hers, her mouth opens, inviting me in, sweeping her tongue against mine, as she pushes her body closer to my own.”
Books always make kisses so passionate. I’ve had some hot and heavy make-out sessions, but they’ve never been as steamy as this.
“We both pause when the back of her legs touch the side of her bed.”
I stop painting for a moment and turn my attention to the speakers. These two are totally going to do it. My movements are slow, too slow, as I pay more attention to the book, listening to the words coming out of the radio, than I am on the task at hand.
“My hand brushes over her breast, cupping it, indulging in the feeling of her soft skin against my rough fingers.”
I sneak a peek over my shoulder. There’s a can of paint in Adam’s hand, but the brush in his other is hanging by his hip. That copper head is down, tilted to the side, as if he, too, is listening.
“Tryin
g to hide the tremor in my hands, I take a deep breath and run my fingers along the inside of her thigh and then against her pussy for the first time. The sound of her quick inhale sends chills down my spine and rushes blood straight to my cock.”
Adam shifts from one leg to the other. His back rises with a large, deep breath, and his fine ass clenches.
“My fingers part her lips, circling her clit, and move lower to feel her wetness seep out. I slowly dip my fingers in, keeping my eyes on her, loving the way her back arches off the bed in ecstasy.”
My palms are sweaty. I rub them on the cotton of my pants. and squeeze my thighs together, savoring the burn building deep inside me.
“I stand tall before her and remove my own clothing before I look down at my best friend, the girl I will always love…”
Adam turns around, and our gazes connect. My chest jolts with a rush of air that fills my lungs. My heart flutters, echoing its rhythm right down to my belly and screaming through my core.
With his legs apart, he shows me all of him—his full frame, six feet tall. He’s all male and commanding in a room so empty and vast that his presence makes it feel incredibly small and intimate.
“I nestle on top of her, between her legs.”
His pupils dilate, making the dark nothing but a sea of black lust.
“My lips are pulled down to hers as I slowly start to enter her for the first time.”
His tongue darts out and skims his lower lip before his teeth come out and graze it.
“Her body tenses, and I wrap my arms tightly around her, cocooning her, as I make my final thrust inside.”
He groans.
“Her mouth finds mine again”—I moan—“and we both find our rhythm—pushing, pulling, tugging, moaning.”
“You guys coming down for lunch?” Toby walks into the room, and his head darts straight for the speakers as he listens to the narrator finish the most intense love scene I’ve ever heard. As he bounces from one foot to the next, it’s as if he’s trying to decide if he should stay or if it would be more awkward if he left.
He stays.
And it’s awkward.
Luckily, the chapter ends quickly, leaving an uncomfortable silence. Adam and I are still looking at each other, and Toby is just standing there.
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